


Panic Attack

by JayWritesThings



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Alfyn is a good boy, Anyways yeah, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear of Heights, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Panic Attacks, Therion chapter 3 spoilers, Therion is struggling but Alfyn makes him feel better, darius is big mean, forgive me if I didn't do it justice, i've had panic attacks before but writing it out was hard, longer thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 03:11:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17696555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayWritesThings/pseuds/JayWritesThings
Summary: Therion had never been a big fan of heights, but as they reach Quarrycrest, he's flooded with memories and can't contain the fear and panic that takes over him.  Luckily, a certain apothecary is there for him.





	Panic Attack

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy! This one took me a while to write but I really enjoyed it! If there are any typos or grammar mistakes I'm very sorry. I read through it and fixed as many things as I could. Again, just be aware I do describe (as best I can) what a panic attack feels like so if that triggers you, please don't read this.

Therion had never been a fan of heights. You’d think that living in Bolderfall would help him conquer that fear, but it didn’t. Everytime he looked over the edge he could see his body laying sprawled across the stones, looking broken and betrayed. He would clench his fists and look away, telling himself to take a deep breath and move his legs.   
It didn’t help when a certain apothecary saw the way his body tensed and he would stop speaking, stop hearing things as they walked along cliffs during their journey.   
When Cyrus had to go to Quarrycrest to meet an old friend and Tressa had something to do as well, Therion knew he couldn’t convince his party not to go. Alfyn had spared him a glance over their campfire at dinner the night everyone decided it was best to head to Quarrycrest. Therion didn’t speak the rest of the night, or sleep well for that matter. Everytime he shut his eyes all he could see was himself being pushed off the cliff, Darius laughing gleefully as he walked away.   
Although Therion still kept most of his past a secret, everyone had seen Darius when they went to the black market, had seen the way Therion trembled with rage and fear at the sight of him. He felt like all the progress he had made, all the friendships he was slowly forging had burned to the ground as an old wound opened all over again. The campfire had been quiet that night, and Therion had wanted to bury himself in a hole and never come out again.   
They let him have a tent all to himself, and he cried himself to sleep, and suffered through countless nightmares for a week after. He got hurt more times than he could count as they fought countless battles, and Alfyn had been worried sick about him. He couldn’t help but revert his eyes, unable to look at the green of Alfyn’s jacket and the way it reminded him of Darius.   
The cliffs leading to Quarrycrest broke the dam he had been keeping most of his emotions in for a few weeks. His body shook so violently, and his heart threatened to break his ribs it was beating so hard. Immediately, the party stopped, everyone gathering around him. He felt like he was in a cage, and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t look up. Tears fell down his face as he curled in on himself. The world was dim and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe…  
“Everyone move away!” Alfyn pushed from his spot in the crowd and kneeled in front of Therion as the others pulled back, guilt on their faces.   
“Hey Theri, listen to my voice okay? You’re okay, you’re safe,” Therion let out a sob, his hands shaking as they reached out. He was falling, falling, into the darkness, into the ravine, he was going to die, and no one would care. They would leave him there in the pit, watch as he dies and then walk away, like he was never there. He couldn’t, everything was too much, too much.   
“Therion, can I touch you?” He clenched his teeth, could barely nod his head. He was so scared, so scared they would leave, would abandon him like Darius did, would throw him off these cliffs and laugh. Then a warm hand held his, and it was so gentle and kind, and he was being pulled forward. He tensed. A cage-immediately the hand he felt coming to wrap around him went away. He relaxed, but only slightly. His hand was pulled forward and placed over Alfyn’s heart, and he could feel the other’s heartbeat.  
“Can you try and match my heartbeat?” He tried, he was trying so hard, but his chest seized and he was breathing hard again, and oh god.   
“Did I ever tell you about this one artist who visited Clearbrook?” His breath hitched, and he tightened his grip around Alfyn’s hand, and Alfyn just squeezed right back. Slowly a hand came and rested in his hair, stroking it in a soothing way. His chest felt like it expanded, and he took a big breath. “She was so bright, and her smile was dazzling. She was going around asking people if she could paint them, but everyone said no. I was heading back to my house to rest after a long day when she called out to me. She said, ‘Hey mister, can I paint you? You have such a nice face and my hands are itching to paint someone.’ I just smiled and said of course, and I sat on the ground for hours as she painted me. When she finished, she looked so proud and happy. She gave me the painting, and I gave her some herbs and salves as a trade. She thanked me over and over, but I told her that it was worth it to sit around and that it was my honor to be painted so beautifully. She left a few days later, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget how passionate she was.”   
Therion thought it was a kind of a silly story, but his mind was off the sheer panic that had gripped him. Exhaustion weighed down on him, and the feeling of Alfyn running his hands through his hair was comforting. He was too tired to fight Alfyn as he carefully slipped a hand around his abdomen and under his knees and lifted him off the ground. He shut his eyes and he blacked out before he could hear anything Alfyn was going to say.   
\-----------  
It was morning when he woke up, and he tensed as he looked around at his tent. His eyes landed on a sleeping figure...it was Alfyn. He blushed, and couldn’t help the way he wrapped his arms around himself and scooted away from the apothecary. Yesterday was, a disaster. He hated how weak and vulnerable he had been. Yet, Alfyn had only been kind, had helped him through his whirlwind of thoughts.   
Alfyn stirred, and Therion tucked his face away in his knees to hide his blush. The apothecary rubbed his eyes, stretching, and the thief resisted the urge to look over, to see how cute he would look having just woken up-wait, what? He shook his head lightly, cursing himself for thinking that way.   
“Hey, you’re awake,” He said in a soft voice, slightly gruff with disuse, sitting up and reaching for his shirt. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want me sleeping in here, but I wanted to keep an eye on you and make sure you slept through the night.” Therion’s heart warmed, and he cursed himself internally again as he looked up.   
When had Alfyn gotten so pretty? His eyes sparkled, and he gave him a small smile, and Therion couldn’t help but frown.   
“About yesterday, I...thank you for helping me,” He murmured, and Alfyn chuckled.  
“Don’t worry about it Therion, it’s what I’m here for!” He replied cheerfully. The thief bit his lip, and he thought with no amount of pleasantness, Yeah, just in the job description, not like you actually cared. Alfyn’s smile faded for a moment as he spoke quietly, reassuringly.   
“If you need to talk about what happened back there, I’m here for you,” Therion looked away quickly, shoving his scarf and boots on. He nodded his head, covering his mouth with his scarf before stepping out of the tent. Alfyn followed, standing at his side, and the heat radiating from him was one hell of a distraction.   
His legs felt like jelly as he walked towards the fire, and the others looked at him, assessing his state, but remained silent. Alfyn set his hand on the other’s shoulder as reassurance and for comfort. Therion found himself thankful for the touch, and he had absolutely no idea why.   
“You can stop staring any time now,” He said in his usual drawl, walking forward and brushing Alfyn’s hand off (it took a lot of effort but he did it) and took an apple from the small pile that was sitting near Cyrus. They all let out huffs or coughed and went back to either quietly talking or looking at the ground. His legs shook slightly as he sat down in an empty seat next to Primrose, and she gave him a small smile before quickly looking away.   
Alfyn plopped down next to him, taking the offered food from Ophilia as she walked over. Everyone kept shooting him concerned glances, and he hunched over himself, shame bubbling up inside him. He shouldn’t have let the panic attack happen in the first place, shouldn’t have let himself succumb to his own fears and insecurities, from the fear of being so close to the edge of the path, to the ravine below.   
He forced himself to calm down, to take a breath, one that everyone noted, especially Alfyn, his eyes glinting with concern. He looked away, couldn’t bear to see his kind face, his eyes like warm honey, his-he stopped his train of thoughts, cursing the way his face warmed. He took an aggressive bite of his apple, looking at the ground like it had something against him.  
Alfyn remained silent for the rest of the meal, and Therion found himself feeling discomfort without his cheery voice being heard throughout the camp. They packed up the tents, and Olberic and H’aanit carried the majority of the tents, Alfyn taking his own share and grunting slightly at the effort. No one made Therion carry anything too heavy, which made him happy but at the same time slightly guilty that they were carrying more than he was.   
Alfyn walked next to him the whole time, blocking the edge of the path, making sure Therion wasn’t too close to the edge, constantly asking him if he was alright, and if he needed to rest. It was endearing and exasperating at the same time. He was surprised he hadn’t ripped Alfyn’s head off by the time they finally reached Quarrycrest. Cyrus and Tressa went off to do their things, saying they’d come and grab whoever they needed for help, and the others were free to explore the town.   
Surprisingly, Therion was scared to be left alone. He ended up sticking with Alfyn, picking the pockets of passersby while Alfyn inquired them. He felt comforted with Alfyn by his side, and he hated the warmth that filled his chest every time he looked at the apothecary.   
As the day passed, him and Alfyn had easygoing conversation and were soon sitting at a table at the tavern, Therion feeling better being indoors then out where he could see the ground drop off. Alfyn pushed his mug away, leaning his arms on the table, giving Therion such a soft look that he had to look away and hide his blush.   
“I’m really glad you decided to spend the day with me Theri,” He said, happiness dripping from his voice, and Therion scowled at the nickname, pulling his scarf over his face.   
“Don’t call me that,” He said, trying to get his voice to sound angry, but he couldn’t seem to make it genuine. Alfyn giggled, and holy shit, this man was going to kill him.   
“Do you...want to talk about what happened?” Alfyn’s voice turned soft, and Therion tensed.   
“I just have...a fear of heights,” He murmured, and Alfyn frowned.   
“You could’ve told me sooner and I would’ve taken more precautions to make sure you couldn’t see the edge, and keep you distracted, and-”   
“Alfyn.” Therion interrupted, letting out a sigh and reaching out to touch the apothecary’s hand. His hand was so small compared to his. Alfyn blushed, resting his head in his other hand, slowly interlacing their fingers and pulling them up to rest at a better angle on the table. Therion stared at their intertwined hands as he spoke again.   
“Back at the black market, that man, Darius,” He bit out his name, unconsciously tightening his grip on Alfyn’s hand. “He’s someone from my past, and he hurt me, very badly. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to feel comfortable being so close to the edge like that, it brings back memories I try not to think about.” Alfyn scooched a little closer, his gaze intent and soft and nothing but kind. There was no look of pity, or disgust. Therion looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes, to bury the shame he felt, the vulnerability he felt at admitting anything about his past.   
“I’m sorry he did that to you. I knew that man was not someone you had wanted to see again, had been ready to face. I don’t think I had ever seen you so angry before,” Alfyn’s gaze turned hard, his eyes shining with determination and anger, “Whatever he did to you, we’ll make him pay.” Therion blinked, his eyes shining. He hadn’t expected that reaction. His mind reeled when Alfyn said “we”, and he couldn’t help but gape. Alfyn blinked, smiling nervously.   
“Sorry, that was a little dark wasn’t it?” He started to pull his hand away, but Therion reached out and gripped his hand again before it went very far.   
“I’d...I would love for you to be with me when I face him again,” He said in a rush, and his face burned with the realization of what that could mean. Alfyn quickly composed himself, smile as bright as the sun.   
“Like I said before, I’m here for you,” He said, welcoming the feeling of Therion’s hand against his again. Therion bit his lip, looking to the barkeep and motioning him to come fill their mugs again. The male gave him a knowing look as he filled them before returning to his spot behind the bar. Alfyn smiled, reaching his free hand to grab his mug, Therion doing the same.   
They both took a drink, sitting in silence, just enjoying each other’s company. Alfyn remained quiet, and Therion kept wondering if maybe Alfyn didn’t like being with him as much as he thought. Soon, doubts crowded his mind, and Alfyn still hadn’t spoken.   
“Alfyn?” Therion was amazed he spoke at all, and the second he said the other’s name he felt like spilling all the doubts out onto the table. He didn’t though.   
“Huh?” Alfyn looked at him, his leg tapping nervously. Therion noted the movement, and the pink tint to Alfyn’s cheeks. The thief squeezed his hand, and he couldn’t believe how long he had been okay with the contact. He found that he quite liked Alfyn’s hand enveloping his, feeling his calluses scrape against his skin.   
“You’ve been really quiet, which is very unlike you medicine man. Is something bothering you?” Therion wasn’t that good with comfort, but if it’s Alfyn, he decides he can try his best.   
“Ah, just...it’s nothing,” The apothecary scratched at the back of his neck, laughing nervously. Therion didn’t buy whatever facade he was trying to put up, his body language showed all the obvious signs of someone who was nervous.   
He tsked, scooting a little closer, almost close enough for their thighs to touch, “It’s obvious that it is not nothing,” He drawled, and the light pink tint on Alfyn’s face became more prominent.   
“Well, it’s just how much you’ve opened up recently, and I can’t seem to get you out of my head,” He spoke hesitantly, and Therion stayed silent, “you’re just so, so amazing, and pretty, and damn Therion. I’m not supposed to catch feelings, and I know I’m pretty annoying and that I’m not really that good of a candidate for someone like you, but I just thought that maybe since you spent the day with me you felt something too? And when you had a panic attack...I never want to see you like that again, you were so terrified and I wanted to just hold you so tight, hold you and have you know that it’s okay, that I’m here, that I...that I really like you and you don’t deserve to feel that way. Maybe I’m just foolish, because I know that what happened in your past still haunts you, and I want to help, and beat the shit out of that Darius guy, and tell him he didn’t deserve whatever you gave him. I just, really like you Therion, and I can’t keep it in anymore.”   
Therion was silent, his eyes watering, and he pulled his hand away without thinking. He didn’t think he could bear the flash of hurt on Alfyn’s face as he stood up, backed away and wiped his eyes. Alfyn didn’t stand up, he just sat there, looking at him. His gaze felt like it was burning his core from the inside out. He didn’t say anything as he turned on his heel and walked out the door.  
\--------------  
Alfyn was hurt. He was hoping that Therion would at least reject him politely, but he said nothing, left him with his feelings laid out, his heart bleeding and broken. He thought there was something there, a spark, and he got his hopes up. He should’ve known that he just didn’t sense the situation right, that he messed up, and confessed his feelings when Therion wasn’t ready.   
Therion probably doesn’t even feel the same way, and now he won’t ever want to see Alfyn again. He’ll go to Ophilia to patch up his wounds, he’ll ignore him, he won’t share a tent with him and he’ll never be able to feel Therion’s hand in his again.   
He was quiet as he slipped into what was supposed to be his and Therion’s shared room, and he wasn’t surprised when he saw the other’s bed was empty. His heart had sunk in disappointment anyway. He lit a candle, sniffing as he dropped onto his bed, covering his eyes with his arm.   
What a fool he was. The biggest fool to ever exist. Alfyn groaned in anger, sitting up and looking around the room. He wished that Therion was here with him, and his eyes watered as he thought about their earlier encounter for the millionth time. Tears slipped down his cheeks, and he hated himself more and more in the silence of the room.   
Therion took a breath, his body shaking as he slumped in the alleyway just a little bit of distance from the tavern. He hated that he walked away, hated that his voice hadn’t worked, that fear had overtaken him and the doubts in his mind had convinced him that Alfyn had been lying. He knew that he really hadn’t been, and that he should have said something, something to put the other’s mind at ease, to make him realize that Therion wasn’t in fact rejecting him.   
Maybe he wasn’t ready for that kind of bond yet...or maybe he was. Alfyn is there, there for him, and it shows. He knows that Alfyn will be there for him, and that he genuinely cares, that he’s not like Darius. Darius betrayed him and treated him very differently from how Alfyn treats him now.   
He realized that when he looks at Alfyn and sees the green of his jacket that he doesn’t think of Darius, he thinks of Alfyn. Thinks of his dazzling smile and his cute laugh and his eyes that always seem so kind and open. Thinks of all the times he rolled up his sleeves as he cared for wounds, all the times he saw Alfyn take the jacket off and set it carefully onto a chair or log.   
He realized he doesn’t have to associate green with Darius anymore. And that he likes Alfyn back. His heart soared at the thought, that he did like Alfyn that way. That he may be annoying sometimes, but that’s one con of the many pros. With this in mind, Therion headed to the inn, his chin high and shoulders back, his heart warm with thoughts of the apothecary.  
He reached the inn as quickly as he could, nodding to the innkeeper as the male spared him a glance. He was up the stairs in a flash, opening the door to his and Alfyn’s room with bated breath.  
Therion slipped inside, glancing at Alfyn’s figure laying on the opposing bed, his shirt thrown somewhere on the floor, his hair messy. It looked like he’d been running his hands through it. His eyes looked puffy. Guilt stabbed itself hard into Therion’s chest at the fact that he’d taken so long to come here, had left Alfyn to doubt himself and feel stupid and alone.   
He removed his scarf and cloak, setting them nicely on a chair in the corner, picking up Alfyn’s jacket and shirt, trying to avoid looking at the other man’s chest. After he set Alfyn’s clothes on top of his, he dared to take a peek. His eyes traveled over the expanse of his chest, noting the few scars that adorned his skin.   
He resisted the urge to run his hands across it, instead running his hand ever so lightly through the other’s hair, pulling it from his forehead and planting a featherlight kiss on it. He doesn’t know why he did that, but it felt good regardless. He swore he caught the ghost of a smile on Alfyn’s face, and his breath caught before he flushed, climbing into the other bed and curling in on himself.   
He shut his eyes and let his breathing even out, trying not to think about Alfyn and how much he liked him back.   
\-----------   
The sun peeked through the curtains, and Alfyn let out a small groan as he rubbed his eyes and sat up. He looked over to see Therion already sitting on his own bed, a small flame dancing between his fingertips as he rested his head in his other hand. He looked beautiful. Alfyn smiled, but it slowly faded as he remembered last night.   
“You’re awake medicine man,” Therion spoke, and the flame dissipated as he stood, “I’ve been waiting for you.” Alfyn forced a smile to his face as Therion grabbed his clothes from off the chair and handed them to him, not making eye contact all the while.   
“Theri, I understand if you weren’t ready for a confession, and if you never want to talk to me again after this and-”   
“Slow down there Alfyn. I’m not going to reject you,” The thief interjected, and he shuffled closer, fidgeting with his hands under his scarf. “I think I was just surprised that you felt that way, and I needed some space to think about it. So I um, I like you too Alfyn. I may not be the best guy around, and I don’t have a lot of experience with relationships, but I’m willing to try for you.” Alfyn gaped for a moment before his face broke out in a huge smile, and Therion mumbled something along the lines of cute before the apothecary had him wrapped up in a hug.   
“I-I thought after you talked about that Darius fellow that you were still recovering from the encounter at the black market and that you wouldn’t want something like this. I guess I was wrong.” Alfyn laughed, and Therion buried his face in the other’s shoulder, awkwardly patting his back.   
“No, I...you’ve helped me so much Alfyn. With the panic attack I had recently on top of you letting me spend all day yesterday by your side, and all the countless adventures we’ve been on in the past, it’s made me realize that I’m finally ready to let someone back into my life again. I need you, Alfyn. I won’t be the best...partner in the beginning, so just be patient with me, and take it slow.” Therion said as he pulled away from his shoulder to look into his eyes. Alfyn’s eyes shined as he smiled, and Therion offered one of his own in return.   
“Does this mean that we’re boyfriends?” The apothecary asked excitedly, moving one hand to cup the side of Therion’s face carefully. The thief’s heart warmed at the thought of Alfyn being his boyfriend as he nodded.   
“I think it does,” He responded, and Alfyn let out a happy giggle, massaging Therion’s cheek with his thumb. Therion let out a small sigh, leaning his head slightly into the other’s hand. They were silent as they looked at each other, the faint chirping of birds outside the only sound in the room.   
Alfyn slowly leaned forward, and Therion’s heart raced as his lips barely brushed the thief’s. Therion blushed, moving an arm around his neck and pulling him down again, letting their lips slot together.   
Let’s just say from now on Therion wasn’t as scared walking through Quarrycrest or Bolderfall anymore.


End file.
